A Light in the Dark
by Hidden Ink
Summary: What happens when two of Hogwart's loneliest people meet in the library one night? A great meeting of minds and many discoveries ensue. SSHG. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, they are JK's sob

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, so if you have any comments, I'd love to hear them! This fic is not HBP compliant in any way shape, or form. I really just wanted to do an SSHG relationship fic without having to deal with Dumbledore's death and all. So I basically just picked it up from the end of the fifth book, and it goes from there!

And without and further ado…

A Light in the Dark

Head Girl Hermione Granger traversed the dark hallways of Hogwarts in the middle of the night in search of her haven; the library. She knew that it was typical bookworm to make a trip to the library when sneaking out after curfew, but it was about more then books now. To her, it was a safe place, a constant in her life. Whenever she needed time alone or a place to think the library was always right there. Hermione took full advantage of that fact and spent many a night there after hours, reading, sleeping, and sometimes just sitting by the fire. All the years of having 'just one more chapter' to read before sleep had left her as a sort of insomniac. A few hours were all she needed. And people wondered how she always finished her mountains of homework.

As she walked, Hermione allowed her mind to wander, as it was apt to do on nights like this, back to two years ago, the spring of their fifth year, the year Voldemort was finally destroyed. She wrapped her cloak around her tighter, both against the chill of September nights, and the haunting memories. It had happened when her, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville had gone to the Ministry to stop Voldemort from getting a hold of the prophesy and to save Sirius. No one would have thought that would be the final battle, least of all Voldemort. Hermione remembered how they had found Voldemort behind the door Harry had dreamed about in the Department of Mysteries. They had stopped him from getting the prophesy, and then all Hell broke loose.

Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix poured into the Ministry, ready for a fight. Dumbledore led them and Sirius came as well, but unfortunately no one could save him when Bellatrix pushed him into the mirror. In a way, his death was necessary, because when Harry saw what happened, he went after Voldemort with a vengeance. The hatred he felt for Voldemort and his love for Sirius were almost palpable at that moment, and they gave him the strength he needed to defeat the Dark Lord.

It was surprisingly anti-climatic. There were no great explosions, last shouted words of hatred, or promises to haunt from the grave. There was only a blinding flash of green light and Voldemort just fell. He had finally been destroyed by The Boy Who Lived. The Death Eaters, realizing their lord was dead, tried to flee, but few of them got away. By that time they were far outnumbered as more Ministry officials ran in and took charge from there.

After that it was all a blur for Hermione. She vaguely remembered being admitted to St. Mungo's for treatment of a nasty curse, courtesy of Luscious Malfoy, and her parents making a few visits. Hermione remembered seeing others coming in after her. The casualties were surprisingly low, none from Hogwarts, though a handful of new recruits form the Order and Mad Eye Moody after he had been cornered by a dozen Death Eaters.

Dumbledore was gravely injured after taking a number curses to his no-longer-young body, and it seemed for a time like he would not make it. Thankfully he survived. The worst by far was Professor Snape. He had arrived partway through the battle, and when it was clear that he was fighting for Potter's side, many of the Death Eaters focused their attention on the traitor. Everyone thought that with all the curses, hexes, and even crucios he had suffered, he would surly die. Somehow tough he had managed to survive to continue teaching, much to the dismay of his students. He had not taught until the new term in her sixth year, and Hermione could remember seeing his hands shake even after so long.

Professor Snape. Now there was a confusing and complicated man. Many of his students, and the general public, had thought he was on Voldemort's side, but he surprised them all. Dumbledore had told her that it was because of Snape they even had a chance in the war at all, his spying had been invaluable to their cause. She had known that he was a spy for the Order, but not that he had been so important. For some reason, it had not surprised her, nor did the fact that he lived through it all. Snape seemed like the kind of man who if he saved you life, would live through a hundred crucios and never tell you, nor look for acknowledgment. He always played for the shadows, with neither side knowing who he is. Half the time not even the Order knew exactly what he was doing, only himself and Dumbledore.

Hermione could not help but respect him. He lived through Hell time after time, got tortured again and again, catered to the whim of people like Luscious Malfoy and never said a word. She knew that he had to have hated what he did as a Death Eater, else why would he have switched sides? Hermione turned a corner to the final stretch of hallways before the library and continued to ponder her professor.

It was not sympathy she felt for him, for she knew he would hate that, and yet it was more then respect. It was not that she had come to like him, she always had. Ever since first year, Hermione had seen the effectiveness of his teaching methods, even Neville had been able to pass. She had also greatly enjoyed his sly comments, although she was sure she was the only student to appreciate the humor and irony they were laced in. Hermione could never bring herself to join in her classmate's hatred for him; she just admired him too much to do so. Not that she would ever tell a soul, least of all Harry or Ron. Hermione shook her head, she did not want to have to deal with those two tonight.

Hermione let out a content sigh as her eyes alighted on the familiar library doors. Here she could dwell in a peaceful isolation, her worries of the day would fly away and she could finally think with a clear mind. _Gods, _she thought, _two weeks into first term and I'm already sick of my housemates. This should be a fun year._ Hermione reached the doors and whispered the password. Even being Head Girl did not grant her this, but Madam Pince was surprisingly careless when she thinks no one is around. Hermione only had to watch her lock up the library once under Harry's cloak to learn the password. Pince had not even bothered to change it for the new year; apparently students sneaking into the library were not such a big threat.

Hermione stepped into the quiet library and muttered an 'Incendio' at the fireplace, shutting the door behind her. She quickly walked over to her favorite table set close to the fire. Transfiguring the stiff wooden chair at the table into a more comfortable arm chair, Hermione sat and gazed into the roaring fire. Almost at once her thoughts turned to Wonder Boy and his sidekick. It seemed she would get no peace tonight.

The two people who used to bring Hermione so much happiness were now just two very sharp thorns in her side. It had all started after the defeat of Voldemort. Hermione just started feeling like a fifth wheel, like Harry and Ron just did not need her anymore. Well, except for homework. It seemed like that was the only time they bothered to talk to her. The rest of their time together was spent talking about Quidditch, oh joy of joys, or girls. They still ate together at the same table, still sat together during lessons, but the friendly banter was no longer there, and neither was the love.

It was strange, the Golden Trio was falling apart, but she did not care. It was not like she would miss her and Ron's arguments, nor Harry's sullen silences or moments of glory when he acted like he knew what was going on all the time. Truth be told, she was glad they had split up, now she could have real conversations about something other then Quidditch. But the problem was, with whom?

When Hermione started her sixth year, she realized how much she did not fit in with the rest of the students. The Gryffindor girls in her year drove her insane, especially Lavender. Really, there were things other then boys in the world! The boys in any year, even the Ravenclaws she was sad to find out, were obsessed with Quidditch, girls, or girls playing Quidditch. She could manage to draw a Ravenclaw into conversation about an intellectual subject, but even their knowledge did nothing to satisfy her needs. She needed someone she could talk to for hours without getting bored of Potions or Charms. Ginny would listen to her, but really she was just a mix between Lavender and Ron, obsessing equally over boys (Did you see Harry's hair today? I can't wait to see Harry again!) and Quidditch (Harry played such a great game against Hufflepuff!). Really, Hermione did not understand her attraction to either.

And then there were her parents. Hermione imagined what would happen if she went home one day and started asking her parents what she thought of Stennel's latest potion breakthrough, or the new version of Wolfsbane she heard rumour of. Hermione laughed at the thought, she could just see her parents sitting in their prim and proper kitchen with everything perfectly organized talking about potions! _Yeah right, _Hermione thought, _If Dumbledore hadn't practically threatened them, I wouldn't even be here._ She smiled at the memory. Hermione's parents were less-then-thrilled when they caught wind of Voldemort, courtesy of a letter form Ron when they had still been talking. Why he always had to re-live everything was beyond her.

Well when her parents got the whole story out of her, well a slightly abbreviated tale anyways, they had decided it in her best interest not to return to 'that awful place'. Hermione panicked. She could see her entire magical future falling away before her eyes. She had owled Dumbledore, begging for him to help her. Thankfully, he had gotten out of St. Mungo's earlier that week and at agreed to help.

Dumbledore showed up that Saturday, when he was sure that Hermione's parents would be there and not at work, in full wizard regalia. He had eaten lunch with Hermione and her parents and the whole time talked about Voldemort, his defeat, and what a great future Hermione had in store for her. Even so, her parents protested that she could be great in the muggle world too, and remained unconvinced. Dumbledore seemed to give in at that point, but Hermione could tell from the twinkle in his eye that he was just going in for the kill.

'Well,' he had sighed, 'if that's what you think is best for Hermione, so be it, I will not force you to let her go. However, there is a certain Transfiguration professor who is itching to have her favorite Gryffindor in her class, and Hermione _is _best friends with the wizard who killed Voldemort. As I said, I will not force you to let her go, but I cannot guarantee that when she is not on the train to Hogwarts, they will. Thank you for the lovely lunch, and Miss Granger, I hope I will see you in September."

With that he had apparated away, and her parents were left to imagine what the wizards would do when they came to get her. They were not people to risk having a bunch of wizards storming their house and so let her go in September. When she walked into the Great Hall upon arriving, she caught Dumbledore's eyes and he gave her a smile and an eye twinkle.

So no, Hermione and her parents defiantly would not be having a heart-to-heart any time soon. She was alone. In a school of thousands of people, Hermione Granger was all alone.

She did not mind really, most of the time. It gave her ample time to work on her studies, but she could only bother McGonagall so much for a chat, and Hermione had no one else to talk to. That was the worst part. What was the point of knowing so much if you could not even talk about it?

Hermione continued to gaze into the fire as she let her thoughts grow dark. What was the point of doing anything if no one cares? Why would anyone care? She was just a bookworm who knew too much for her own good. She would just end up some middle-aged hag with a dozen cats who never married and spends all her time reading alone at the library. Sometimes, she wished that Malfoy had used a stronger curse when he attacked her…

She shook her head. Hermione knew that was a dangerous path to tread, especially when she was alone at night. She stood up and walked over to the bookshelves determined to get those dark thoughts out of her head. Maybe tonight she would read up on those spells Flitwick had told her about to charm an electronic object to work on magic. One could learn to miss music when at Hogwarts; she had to hear some Beatles.

Hermione had only located and gotten through the first chapter of the book before she heard a deep voice behind her. "Well, well, what have we here? A student out after curfew? Now, that just won't work.'

Hermione jumped out of her seat in surprise and spun around to see Professor Snape standing behind her chair and looking pleased to have caught a student out so late. She was about to stammer out an apology when he cut her off, "Oh, it's you, Miss Granger. I thought it was some mindless dunderhead vandalizing library books.'

He then sat down in a nearby chair and put the book Hermione just noticed he was carrying on the table. She was about to try and apologize again and get away as quickly as possible, she might respect Snape but did not want to meet him in a dark room at night, but her eye caught the title of the book on the cover. 'Is that-"

'Yes, Miss Granger, the title does not lie; it is Stennel's newest edition. And no, I did not get it in Hogsmeade.'

'Oh wow,' Hermione breathed as she moved to sit in the chair across from his, her own book lying forgotten on the table. This book supposedly held the method for making a potion that would make the user able to resist the Dementor's affects. All in theory, of course, even such a renowned Potions Master as Stennel could not get away with making that potion. 'I've only been able to read about in my Potions magazines, I haven't been able to get a hold of the book. The controversy has a lot of stores unwilling to carry it. Tell, me, do you think it will work?'

Hermione looked up form the book and into Snape's eyes. He was giving her a weird look, almost as if he was wondering why she was talking to him, but he quickly masked it. 'Miss Granger, you have just been caught out of bed at 12:30 in the morning and you are asking me about a book?' He snapped at her.

Hermione shrank back in her chair as his voice cut like a whip around her. 'Well, it's just, I've wanted to read it since I heard of the theory…and I just wondered…I'm sorry sir, what time should I report for detention?'

'Never mind Miss Granger, tell me, where did you hear about this book?'

Hermione's head shot up. He was not giving her detention? Snape? Passing on making a student's life Hell? 'Wait,' she said, 'I'm not getting a detention?'

'Not unless you want one, Miss Granger.' Snape replied, 'It's not often that a student sneaks out to read, and uses a spell to transfigure her chair that has not been put on the syllabus.' He gave her a smirk and she blushed a little, grateful for the semi-darkness. 'Now,' he said in a commanding tone, 'Where did you hear about this book?'

'Potions Weekly, sir.' Hermione answered. 'I get it delivered.'

'And you understand the articles in it?' He asked.

'Why would I get it otherwise?' Hermione covered her mouth and looked up at Snape in horror, fully expecting a lashing for the comment that just slipped out, but he was looking over her shoulder and into the fire.

'Indeed,' he said, and Hermione relaxed, realizing that the professor was probably drugged and she was not going to be penalized. 'So tell me, Miss Granger,' he looked from the fire and back into her eyes with a strange intensity, 'What did you think of the idea when you first read about it?'

'Well, at first I thought it was impossible because you would have to erase the bad memories to work, because then you could not remember anything bad and the Dementors would have no effect. But then, how could you manage to target these memories when they are different for each person? It's not like a memory charm when you can just choose a certain memory to erase, potions have to be general. I've heard of very few potions that deal with memories.

'The longer I thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. I tried to get more information on it, but I couldn't find anything. I couldn't ask anyone about it either; I was in a muggle town with no wizards in sight, really frustrating.

'Anyways, I kept thinking about it and I figured out that it didn't erase and memories at all. It doesn't even have anything to do with memories. The only other thing that I could think of was that it stimulated happy thoughts and feelings so that the power of the Dementors was overridden.'

'And you figured all this out on your own?' Snape asked.

'Except for the original article, yes.'

'Well, Miss Granger, that is how the potion works, but can you tell the ingredients necessary?'

'I think I figured out some of them,' Hermione said, becoming more comfortable by the minute know that they were talking about an exceedingly interesting topic. 'I know that there are probably Ashwinder eggs, they would give off the feeling of love, though it would have to be diluted with Grindylow finger whose aggressive nature towards anything would keep the feeling of love from attaching to a sentient being. There would also have to be poppy leaves, because they create a sense of euphoria. I'm not sure if that would be strong enough. Maybe if the base was a calming draught so that the user would not panic at the emotions and memories trying to break free…then the eggs could be added, though they would have to be left for a month for the draught to absorb the effects. Then the Grindylow, and after that the poppies…I'm not sure, but theoretically it seems like it would work…'

Hermione looked back into Snape's face. Her eyes had wandered over the room as she thought, as though looking to the thousands of volumes for help. Snape was giving her that strange look again, as though she had just discovered how to make gold. She grew uncomfortable under his gaze as she waited for a reply. Suddenly she felt so stupid, how could those ingredients work? And why would a Potions _Master_ be asking her? He probably knew already and just wanted to see her screw up.

'Well, Miss Granger,' Hermione tensed and waited for the sharp retort, 'That is essentially it. There are other details, of course, other ingredients and preparations, but those are the basics. Except for the calming draught. It would turn volatile when used with another key ingredient used later on. Well done.'

Hermione started at him. It was the end of the world. Here she was, sitting in the library with Snape at nearly one in the morning, and they were talking about potions! And he just complimented her! Talk about falling down the rabbit hole, this was bizarre! Snape had to be drugged, that was the only solution.

'Er…thank-you, professor.' Hermione stammered, the happiness she would have otherwise felt at being right (again) was being squashed by the weirdness of the situation. 'So,' she said when it was apparent he was not going to ask her anything further, 'How did you get the book? I had not heard of one store in 50 leagues that was carrying it.'

'I am a Potions Master, Miss Granger,' Snape said, looking down his nose at her, 'I have more then one way to get certain volumes. But you are obviously aware of the controversy surrounding this text; do you think this potion should be made?'

'Honestly, I don't know a lot about the problems with it, I mean some are obvious, like the fact that prisoners could use it to escape, but there must be more to it? Could you tell me, sir?'

Snape looked at her for a moment as if wondering whether he wanted to be drawn further into a conversation, but decided that ignorance was a terrible thing and so granted her request. 'Well, criminals could use it, yes, but with all the security they have at Azkaban, that is the lease of their problems. One major issue is that the potion is potentially addictive. You could never know fully, but the ingredients used suggest that it could happen. Especially the poppy leaves mixed with Ashwinder. There are some visitors who frequent on a regular basis, and the Ministry does not want people showing up to Azkaban just for a fix.

'There is also the affect on could have on the Dementors.'

'Wait, the Dementors, sir? But I thought they could only be harmed by the Patronus charm.'

'No, they can only be drive off entirely by it. But you have to see that if you used this potion, the happiness would be fairly dripping off you. With all this joy in the air, the Dementors powers could potentially be lessened. This would be a bigger problem then one prisoner getting a hold of a vial, if the power of the Dementors lessened enough, then any number of people could get out, and you defiantly do not want a half-crazed Luscious Malfoy wandering around loose.'

'No, that would not be good.' Hermione said, thinking. 'Sir, do you think the potion should be made? Even an experimental one?'

'No. I do not think that this book should have been published. Even if it turned out not to be addictive or decrease the Dementors' powers, all it would do is make Azkaban seem like a less fearful place. That's the prison's power, the terrifying fear of maybe having to go there for a stint. If it was suddenly just a place where you could go to feel like you're on cloud nine, well…'

Hermione had not thought about that. It made sense though. If Azkaban was being compared to fluffy puppies, there would be many more Voldemort wanna bes hanging around. 'When you put it that way, it seems like a more dangerous potion then what you read about.'

'Never underestimate the power of a potion, Miss Granger.'

'Of course not sir, after all, they can bottle fame, brew glory,-'

'And even stopper death. Your mind does soak up everything, doesn't it?'

Hermione blushed. Was Snape actually joking with her? He seemed to be in a good mood, so Hermione decided to try and push her luck. 'Well, only what's worthy. Speaking of which, I heard that there is a new Wolfsbane potion that was being developed. You created the first, did you not, sir?'

Snape looked into her eyes, surprised. 'It seems Miss Granger that you know more about current potions then most Masters. Is it the only subject that you receive magazines for?'

'Well, I get the most for potions because there is always something new going on in the field, but I also get a few for Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes.'

'Interesting. But to your original question, yes, I did develop the original, and I have heard that there is an advancement being worked on, but I know the man who is doing it, Patrick Mather, and I know that he will not succeed. The man got through his apprenticeship by giving his Master shiny cauldrons from his father's vault, a much more deserving Master then he is.'

'Why don't you think he will be able to do it? Purely because of his lack of talent, or has it something to do with the potion?'

'Ah, always looking deeper then others will. No, it's not just his utter and total lack of competence, it is also the potion, although, I will give him a lot of credit. But you see, the Wolfsbane is very complex, took me years to do. The problem lies in the moon, when it comes time to add the fourth ingredient…'

They sat like that for hours, Hermione in her comfortable transfigured chair, Snape in a stiff library style one. The fire crackled near them as they discussed the Wolfsbane, Stennel, the newest charms, most effective Arithmancy methods, and everything in between. Hermione was surprised how easy it was to talk to this man. He was willing to speak on any subject that she brought up, and add to it greatly as well. His mind was truly amazing, it seemed like he knew about everything. Never was he at a loss for an opinion or random fact. It was the first time in months Hermione had been able to talk like this, and their conversation was like an oasis in the desert.

It was only when they heard Peeves crashing around down the corridor that the two were broken from the spell. Snape looked at the black leather wind up watch he wore and cursed lightly under his breath. 'It seems, Miss Granger,' he spoke in those deep tones that had captivated her for some time that night, 'That I have kept you late. It is past three, and I'm sure that you need sleep for all that revision you have no doubt begun.'

Hermione blushed once more. It was true, she had begun revising already. 'Well, you can never be too prepared, sir. I suppose I should be getting back to my rooms then.'

'Yes that would probably be the best.'

Still neither of them moved out of their chairs. There was silence for a moment as they both stared off into nothing until Snape spoke, 'I thank you for the conversation, Miss Granger. Too often I am here at night with only books to share my theories with.'

Hermione smiled at the obvious hint. 'As am I, sir, and I thank you for sharing your theories with me this time. Good night.'

Hermione left the library and made her way back to her rooms. If she had not gone mad, she would have said that she had just enjoyed a very long and wonderful conversation with Professor Snape, and he had, in his own way, told her he would be willing to talk again. Ironically, this man in black was like a light in the dark. He gave her just what she needed at a time when she needed it most. The loneliness that had been so strong mere hours earlier had lifted a bit, and she walked with a spring in her step as she thought of the prospect of another talk with the professor. Yes, she had most defiantly gone mad.

Snape sat in his chair until the fire had dyed out. Then he began the long walk back to the dungeons, all the while contemplating what the Hell was wrong with him. He had just had an extensive conversation with Head Girl Hermione Granger, shared his theories and even joked, at one in the morning. _And later_, he thought.

Why had he done that? Why not just give the girl a detention and let the world keep spinning? He just had to let her see that book! He should have known that she would know about it, but it was how much she knew that surprised him. Many things did tonight, like her vast knowledge on every subject taught at Hogwarts, with the exception of Divination. They had both agreed that Trelawney could not predict her way out of a wet paper bag. Snape chuckled at the memory of Hermione's face when he first mentioned Divination. It was priceless!

_Wait, _he thought, _I just laughed because a student made a face that had nothing to do with someone else's pain and/or suffering! Well, unless you call Divination painful, which it is, but still! _What was the world coming to? Snape was enjoying his time spent with Hermione. Actually, it had been the best time he had in quite a while. It was like the teachers here never bothered to look up anything unless it had to do with their subject, and he could only talk to McGonagall about Transfiguration for so long. The girl just started talking to him, and once he started could not stop. It had been so long since he could just _talk_ to someone without them running in fear of the 'greasy bat'. He had not been able to do that in years.

Since he became a spy for Dumbledore, he had to act like a bastard to everyone, even the faculty. That made him unpopular very quickly, and gave him the perfect image for 'evil' that would be associated with a Death Eater. He had been so good at it he even fooled Voldemort.

All those years, he could only think of what he would be rather doing then yelling at the students, like helping them for a change. True, they were a pathetic lot when it came to potions making, especially Longbottom. Snape shuddered, if there was a way to get him out of is classes for good, Snape would pay a thousand galleons. But some of the students could at least be decent, if he was allowed to act like a real teacher. But instead, he just had to glower and yell, and well that was fun to do to Potter and Weasley, he wished he could have given students like Hermione a better chance.

_Back to Hermione again, I see_, Snape thought as he approached the corridor to his rooms. He reached for the handle on his classroom door when his hand froze. He had invited her to talk again. Well, it was subtle, but that girl would no doubt pick it up. And if he was not mistaken, she returned his sentiments. _Oh crap, _he thought, he had invited Hermione to speak with him again, and while that should have filled him with dread, he was just nervous. And excited. Excited that maybe he would get to talk about that new Rune they had just deciphered and he had not gotten to bring up. Snape opened the door and proceeded to his office and then personal chambers as he thought of what he and Hermione could talk about.

Snape did not stop listing the articles to bring until his head hit the pillows and he was sound asleep with a smile on his face. His lonely world seemed brighter, and a bushy-haired girl was his light.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey, sorry this took so long, but I had all sorts of culminating activities in school the past two weeks. This chapter is a little short, but they'll get more frequent and longer now that school is almost over.

As usual, any sort of comment is welcome, especially if you have a suggestion for improvement. I'm open to suggestions on the plot.

A Light in the Dark: Chapter 2

Hermione looked at the page of her textbook but could not read it. Her mind just refused to settle enough to decipher any words on the page. She sighed and set the book down on the empty seat next to her. Looking around the Great Hall, she realized just how early it was to be up on a Saturday morning. There was no one else at the Gryffindor table for breakfast yet and only two from the other three Houses, both in Ravenclaw. No doubt for some early morning studying, she thought. Hermione wondered what it would be like to be sorted into that House. She could study as much as she wanted without having people like Harry and Ron giving her a hard time about living in the library.

Hermione's eyes wandered from the House tables to the Staff table where there was only one staff member, Professor Sprout. Many of the plants in the greenhouses had to be cared for at odd hours so Sprout could be seen around the school at all hours of the day. Hermione's eyes eventually traveled to the empty chair of the one person she was trying to avoid thinking about. Professor Snape. The previous night was still a huge mystery for her and the longer she thought about it, the more confused she became. Why would Snape have a conversation with her, a know-it-all Gryffindor, at one in the morning? And if that was not strange enough, he seemed to enjoy it. Why else would he have stayed for so long talking about whatever came up? Surely he has better things to do, like sleep, the talk to her for so long. 'What happened, Professor,' Hermione whispered to his empty chair, 'That had made you come to me for conversation?'

Hermione guessed it was the same reason that she had talked to him, loneliness. She had never seen Snape having a pleasant conversation with any of the staff, even Dumbledore. Was he just like her, so alone because no one else could keep up with him? Hermione knew that Snape was a genius, how else could he have become a Potions Master? And he had shown last night that he knew about more then Potions. Maybe he had no one to talk to that could speak with him on the same intellectual level. Well, Dumbledore could, but for some reason, he did not seem like the type of person Snape would go running to so they could have a chat. Hermione giggled as she imagined the dour Potions Professor sitting in Dumbledore's shockingly bright office drinking a glass of tea and talking about the weather. No, Snape would not have chats with Dumbledore for fun, that much she knew.

But if he did not talk with the Headmaster, then who? McGonagall? No, she was too Gryffindor and would probably only talk about Transfiguration. Flitwick? Too squeaky. Binns? Too boring. Sprout? Too bubbly. As Hermione continued to stare up at the staff table she ran through every member of the staff and found something wrong with each one, some reason no matter how small that would make Snape avoid them. Really, who did the man spend time with? Maybe he spent all his days alone…

Hermione shivered and looked away from the staff table. She knew that feeling all too well, spending each day by yourself, watching those around you having fun and laughing. To be separated from your peers simply because of your intellect. Hermione feverishly wished that was not the case with Snape, that he had someone. No one deserved to be alone.

Hermione closed her text book and strode purposely from the Hall. Those thoughts led to nowhere she wanted to be on a Saturday morning. She reached the Entrance Hall and decided that she would go for a walk around the lake, it was a beautiful morning and the fresh air might help clear her mind of Snape. As she walked towards the shimmering lake, she stubbornly thought of anything besides the Potions Professor, going over her timetable, planning her schedule, even reciting spells, just to get him out of her mind.

By the time she was half way around the lake, she had given up on thinking at all. That always happened whenever she walked on days like this. It was so peaceful and quiet, she did not think for fear of risking the perfection of the landscape. Hermione quickened her pace as she approached her favourite place to sit and not think. It was a large rock underneath a Weeping Willow tree. Shaded by the large tree, it was right beside a dip in the lake so Hermione had to climb around the Willow to get to the rock. But since her stone seat angled into the lake at the end, it gave her a place to cool her feet, and even a dock for swimming. The view was beautiful; all of Hogwarts could be seen from here.

Hermione reached the tree and climbed around it to lay out on her back on the rock. It was heated slightly from the morning sun that fought through the branches and the warmth on her back chipped away at the coolness of the early September climate. She closed her eyes and listened to the world around her, the wind whispering through the trees, birds chatting off in the forest, the water lapping…

Hermione slowly drifted off into a light doze. She had often let herself do so in the past, knowing that few people ever came around this part of the lake. But just as sleep was about to take over, she heard footsteps behind her and shot up like a dart, looking around for who was walking near. Her eyes were drawn to a figure making its way around the tree to the rock. Hermione could tell the person was wearing a black cloak, but their face was obscured by long black hair…

_Oh crap_, Hermione thought, panicking slightly, Here comes the one man I did not want to think about today! SNAPE! Hermione briefly thought of running before he saw her, but he was currently standing in her exit. She decided to let him know she was there before he could say she was hiding. Hermione took a calming breath then said, 'Hello, Professor.'

Snape's head shot up form where he was watching where he placed his feet and met her eyes. She saw confusion in his eyes for a moment before he looked back to his feet to make the last step to the rock and then he stood in front of her, arms crossed and looking down with an unreadable expression. 'Well hello, Miss Granger. We do seem to be crossing paths a lot now, don't we?'

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself before replying. 'Yes, Professor, it does seem like that, though in all fairness, you are the one who keeps sneaking up on me.'

Hermione nearly gasped at her words. Sure, her and Snape had been congenial the night before, but she was not sure that he would act the same way today. She braced herself for the verbal assault that would no doubt follow her insolence, but feverishly hoped at the same time that he would act like he did last night. Not nice, but not mean either.

'Well, the blame cannot be completely laid at my feet, who would have known that you would be in the library that late? And honestly, I didn't think that anyone else knew about this spot or bothered to come out here.' Snape sat down on the rock and began rifling through his cloak for something, and Hermione had to smile. It seemed that he was going to allow their camaraderie to continue outside the library. She was still confused by is actions, but decided to take advantage of this nice Snape and so sat down on the rock and leaned back against the tree.

'I didn't think this was a well-known spot either, least of all by one of the teachers.'

'What,' Snape asked, pausing in looking through his voluminous cloak to catch her eye, 'Just because I'm a teacher means I can't sit near the lake on a rock?'

'Well, it's hardly a common thing at near seven in the morning.'

'Hmmm. I suppose you have a point there.' Snape grew silent after that and resumed to looking through his pockets. Hermione was content to look out over the lake and steal nervous glances at the Potions Professor every few moments. He was, in a word, creepy at the moment. It was like he was acting like a human being. Hermione had never seen this side of Snape before, last night they had at least been talking; right now he was simply looking through his cloak for gods knew what in silence. Hermione wondered why she was not nervous or frightened, or...feeling anything but the hope that he would start another talk and amusement at the fact that he had actually lost something _in_ his robes.

She looked away from the lake and back at the Professor when she heard his heavy sigh and then, 'Ah, here it is, the greatest thing to come from muggles.' Hermione looked over in time to see him drawing a package of cigarettes from his robes. She stared, Snape smoked? Muggle cigarettes? Of all things, she would have labeled him as a drinker, not a smoker. He looked up from his pack of smokes and met her eye, 'You don't mind if I have a smoke, do you?'

Hermione stared at him, baffled._ Did Snape just ask my permission to have a cigarette?_ 'Uh, no, my dad smokes so I'm used to it. And besides, with all the trouble you went through, you deserve it.'

Snape glared at her, mumbled something, and pulled out is wand to light the nicotine bar. Hermione worried that she might have pushed it too far, maybe he didn't like jokes at his expense, but she knew he was fine when he sighed and exhaled the smoke, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. Hermione could not help but watch him look out over the water. He looked almost…childlike. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself, but there was a certain vulnerability and sadness to his pose. The look in his eye, Hermione marveled at how she had ever thought those black orbs were expressionless. In the morning light she could see his eyes glittering with emotion. The rest of his face was stone, but his eyes danced.

Hermione, slightly unsettled that she was examining Snape's face, tried to think of something to say. 'So…why are you out here this early, sir?'

'Couldn't sleep.' Snape said. 'I assume the same for you?'

He looked up at her and she nodded. 'Too many things to think about,' she said and he mimicked her nod.

'Yes, last night brought up many questions, Miss Granger. Tell me, why were you in the library that late? Surely you do not have that much homework this early into the term?'

'No, it wasn't homework; I just needed a place to think, that's all. Why were you up there, sir?'

For a moment Hermione did not think that he was going to answer her, but he did, hesitantly, 'I could not sleep either…the library was just…a place to go.'

'I know what you mean,' Hermione whispered softly.

'What is it that I mean, Miss Granger?'

'No one else understands me either.' Hermione answered.

Snape just looked at her then turned his attention back to his cigarette and the lake. After a few moments of silence, he quietly asked her, 'Why did you stay last night?'

Hermione was shocked. He sounded like he was afraid of the answer. _Why didI stay? Wasn't that fairly obvious?_ 'Because you would talk to me.'

Snape looked up at her once more, 'Surely you talk enough with your schoolmates?'

'Not like that, sir. I mean really talk, about something other then Quidditch. You have no idea how hard it is to find someone who is willing to talk about Potions or Runes in this school.'

'Oh, believe me, I do. Have you ever had a conversation with Dumbledore? That man is supposed to be a genius, but I swear all he talks about is gossip.' Hermione laughed and heard Snape chuckling with her. 'But to be honest, Miss Granger, it was…nice to have someone to talk to.'

Hermione almost started laughing again. Did Snape just say 'nice'? This cannot be happening! 'It was, sir.'

Hermione swore she saw a hint of a blush along Snape's cheeks before he looked away again. She watched him take another puff of his cigarette then dared to initiate conversation. 'Do you ever feel suffocated by it, sir?'

Snape let go of his knees and sat cross-legged, turning to face her, 'Do I feel suffocated by what?'

'Your intelligence,' Hermione answered. 'Do you ever feel separated from everyone just because of what you know?'

'Well, let's just say I was a library nerd when I was in school.' Snape answered.

'So,' Hermione said in a teasing voice, 'You were the Slytherin know-it-all?'

Snape looked shocked for a moment at her daring, and then burst out laughing, Hermione quickly joining him. 'Yes, I guess you could say that,' Snape answered when he calmed down. He crushed what was left of his cigarette on the rock and once again wrapped his arms around his knees. 'So tell me, Miss Granger, am I just a paranoid Slytherin looking for teenage drama, or are you, Golden Boy, and Weasley falling out?'

Hermione regarded him for a moment, wondering if she should be telling Snape these things. After all, what if he just used it as ammo against her in Potions class? And since when did Snape ever care about his student's lives, let alone the Golden Trio's? It seemed that there was much, much more to the man then she had ever thought.

Seeing that Snape was waiting for an answer (patiently, even!), Hermione decided to throw caution to the wind and finally talk to someone about what was going on. At least she knew that he would listen.

'Yes,' she said quietly, looking back out over the water. She did not know if she could keep herself from crying. 'We have had a…falling out, as you say. It started just after Harry defeated Voldemort. I don't know what happened exactly, but they just stopped acting like we used to, the camaraderie was gone and…since then it hasn't been the same.'

Hermione did not know if Snape was expecting her to go on or not, but now that she had started, it seemed she would not be able to stop until it was all out. 'It was like I was just not needed anymore. Well, except for homework, anyways. They always ran to me for help whenever they had a problem. Harry had his dreams, I solved the problem. Harry didn't know what to do with Cho, he went running to me. Him and Ron wanted to sneak out to Hogsmeade, I figured out how to do it. Then Ron, oh, he was the king! He was so worried about Harry, needed a shoulder to lean on, so he came to me. Yeah, we lasted about two months, then suddenly Harry wins against Voldemort and I'm not needed anymore.

'They used me for my mind, and I never saw it the whole time! I just thought that they genuinely wanted to be my friend, but all they wanted was someone to do their Potions homework.' Hermione looked over at Snape and gave him a small smile. 'How do you think they have passed your class all these years? Even I can see they are almost as bad as Neville at brewing.'

Snape snorted. 'No one can quite match Longbottom in uselessness, but yes, I knew that you had to be helping the dunderheads. My class is meant for the best, and they certainly aren't.'

'No, not in Potions, or Charms, or Transfiguration. They would have had me doing their Divination homework if I could have put up with the subject. But I guess my company isn't worth anything unless they get something out of it. Now they only talk to me when they need homework done, or to insult my study habits. We still sit together at meals and in classes, but they only ever talk about Quidditch, and I'm just left to trail behind.'

Hermione looked back to the water and blinked back the tears that were dangerously close to spilling over. 'I'm sorry, Professor. I know that you don't need to deal with all this, it's just…'

'I know, Hermione.' Snape said, 'I know that sometimes you just have to talk, even if it's to the dour Potions Professor.'

Hermione turned to look at him and saw a small smile gracing his face. She gave her own in return and the tears disappeared. He was right, sometimes you just had to talk, and now that she had she felt better. Better then she had felt in a long while. 'Yes, well, it's good to have someone to listen, even the Potions Professor.'

Snape blushed a little and lowered his gaze to the rock. Silence enveloped them once more. Hermione and Snape looked out over the water, both lost in their own thoughts. Hermione kept her gaze on the water, but her mind continuously turned to the man beside her. So many things had happened in the past twenty-four hours that had forced her to re-think her entire opinion of the man. It seemed like the isolated and brooding Professor was really starved for conversation, intelligent conversation, enough to ask her about Harry and Ron. It was weird, but she did not mind talking to him at all. In fact, she quite liked it. When she spoke to him, the words came easier, and she just knew what to say. For some reason she knew that he would not mock her, that he would just listen and tell her what he thought. But he would be honest. No, Snape would not lie to her just for comfort, he would tell her straight up what was going on in his mind. Hermione liked that. He treated her like an adult, not some immature kid. It was almost like he respected her…

'Miss Granger,' Snape's soft call brought Hermione out of her reverie. She looked over at the Professor.

'Yes, sir?'

'I was just wondering…do you miss Potter and Weasley?'

Hermione was startled at the strange question. Did she miss them? Yes, she did, did she not? _Do I? Do I really miss them, or even need them?_ To give herself more time to think, Hermione questioned Snape. 'What do you mean, exactly?'

'Do you miss Potter and Weasley? Their conversation, presence, doing whatever you used to do?'

Hermione ran a hand through her hair before answering hesitantly. 'Well…I guess…no…not really. I mean, I defiantly don't miss the Quidditch talks, but for the rest of it…no. I don't miss them. It's actually kind of a relief not to have to deal with them anymore.'

'Well, I'm glad to say, Miss Granger, that you have split the Trio. Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but they were only holding you back. Now that you are free from the dunderheads, maybe you can become your own person.' Snape looked up into her eyes, 'Now, I'm afraid I must go, I have some potions to complete before my research tonight. I believe Madame Pince ordered some new books that may help. Good morning, Miss Granger.'

Snape stood and left with a nod of his head. Hermione mumbled a good-bye, still thinking over his words. What did he mean, 'become your own person'? Hermione sat, looking out over the water for a long time afterwards, anxiously looking forward to a night in the library with her Professor.

_He called me Hermione..._


End file.
